


One Week

by niente



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Ambiguous but Hopeful Ending, Dave uses shitty logic to justify being an asshole, Gen, a ton of emotional turmoil that is only sort of dealt with in the end, briefly mentioned past DirkJake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-03-31 06:37:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3968158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niente/pseuds/niente
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After you beat the game, it dumped you and Dave into a shit hole apartment in Houston. It’s been seven days since Sburb ended and you’re not sure it’s going to work out between you and Dave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Week

**Author's Note:**

> Took a break from my happy Strider piece to write this. 
> 
> Even though I have must bigger hopes for the Dave & Dirk relationship in canon, I presented it in this fashion to better fit the atmosphere of the story.

You wake up in the new universe to yelling.

It’s not comprehensible, like a shouting match between two participants. It’s just an aggravated voice making noises to reflect their feelings. Feelings that are probably very difficult to word, you assume since it’s pretty similar to what you are feeling when you’re eyes open up and you find yourself in an unfamiliar apartment and memories that you don’t remember personally experiencing.

You sit up and take a look around. The room is similar to the one you lived in for sixteen years before the game, however outside the window is a busy city and not a vast ocean. For a moment you’re at peace, realizing that you are no longer alone in this world.

The peace is short lived when you hear a smash from outside your door. You’re memories of this life are foggy and you can’t quite place who your roommate is just yet. You pray that it isn’t some troll – do the trolls even exist in this universe? A quick look around the room, concludes that yes, the trolls do exist and you’re living in some strange amalgamation of the Earth and Alternia.

There is a string curses from outside the door and the owner of the voice is becoming increasingly more frustrated. After a brief moment you place the voice’s owner as Dave and your memories fill in that in this universe, you’re simply brothers – no fucked up ectobiology and time paradoxes to deal with. You’re the older brother, by a few years. You’ve been living together while you’re both in school and are estranged from your parents. Even with the memories implanted in your brain, you’re glad that you’re estranged from your parents. You have no idea how to deal with them, having had to come to terms with being your own father for many years beforehand.

Curiosity gets the best of you and you exit your room. Does Dave remember like you? Did he just wake up in the new universe like you, having only moments ago watch John open the door at the end of the game? Or is retaining your memory something related to your being the Prince of Heart? All the prospects scare you equally, but you venture into the hallway of the apartment anyway.

It’s a shitty place to live, you and Dave not having a lot of money when you left home. It’s got two bedrooms – Dave’s door opposite to yours – and a kitchenette that bleeds into a tiny living room. All corners of the apartment are crammed with puppets, shitty swords, and a variety of interests you and Dave have. At least some things haven’t changed.

You’re silent when you enter the main room and observe Dave for a moment. He’s gone silent and is staring at a smashed plate on the floor. His shoulders are heaving, indicating that the smashed plate might not have been an accident. You’re starting to think that Dave, too, just woke up here and isn’t nearly as okay with it as you are – or that your making yourself believe you are.

“Dave,” you call from the hallway and he whirls around to face you.

There’s more emotion on his face than you ever remember seeing. The two of you had always been pretty cool and stoic throughout the entire game. Dave did express more emotion than you, a few people had pointed out when comparing the two brothers but never to this degree. There’s fear in his eyes, which are a startling red, along with apprehension and an overall anger.

“You,” he hisses and narrows his eyes. “Do you remember?”

You give him a slight nod.

“Do you think the others remember?” he questions and he’s looking to you for answers.

Dave had so much time with his Bro in his universe. His Bro offered guidance and had all the answers, at least for some time, in Dave’s eyes. Despite the misgivings Dave held towards his guardian, he still loved him dearly. He had fears about meeting you at first, as you did him, but you managed to smooth out your relationship after literally meeting by being slammed into one another. Your relationship wasn’t particularly close, but Dave is looking at you like you’re his Bro – he wants you to guide him. You’re not sure if you’re willing to do that though.

“I don’t know,” you reply honestly.

“Great,” he snaps.

“Dave –“ you begin because you have fond memories of him as a child in your head but you cut yourself off because that isn’t your relationship. “How long have been awake?”

“An hour and four minutes, 30 seconds,” he replies angrily and stoops down to start cleaning up the plate. “32 now.”

“Have you made any contact with anyone?” you question.

“I don’t know where to find them,” he mutters angrily.

You know he’s not angry with you. Dave’s angry because suddenly he’s alone in the universe, without the friends who he’d gone through so much with. Suddenly his entire support system is gone. Instead he’s with you, someone he barely knew and has a complex history with each other in multiple universes. You’re use to feeling alone. Dave isn’t.

“We’ll find them,” you promise. “We ended up in Houston – maybe the others are where they are from as well.”

Dave doesn’t reply as he finishes scooping up the plate. He slams it into the trash bin.

“Hope is Jake’s shtick,” he mutters with venom and you know those words were meant to shove you away. “I’m going out.”

Dave marches out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him. You want to tell him that you’re alone too – that you don’t know where anyone is. You have a head that has two – almost three if you count Bro – lives crammed into your head. There’s voice inside of your mind, probably the voice of Bro. Bro is the one who knew Dave and loved him and wasn’t a stranger. The voice is telling you to give Dave some time; this is what he does when he’s upset. He’ll come around.

‘Time is Dave’s schtick,’ you think, feeling petty because Dave’s words wound you. You won’t hold it against him though. If the situation was reversed, you’d probably react in the same manner.

The voice’s words don’t sit right with you. You’re not Bro and Dave isn’t your bro – whatever the fuck that even means since you only even knew _of_ each other. Dave’s practically a stranger you met a few months ago in a collision that began with your pantaloons smacking him in the head. You became tentative friends and didn’t really talk about the lingering issues you had with your respective guardians. Perhaps this is Sburb’s way of telling them to get their act together.

Regardless, you’re willing to give Dave a chance.

* * *

You don’t see Dave until Wednesday – you woke up in this universe on a Monday. His bedroom door was open when you left on Tuesday morning and closed when you returned at night – the only proof that he actually existed.

Your nature is to adapt quickly and you thrive in this city. Quickly picking up the pieces of your life, you attend classes and go to work and talk to the people who call you their friend. You’ve only been here three days and you’ve already got your life down. You’re in love with this version of Houston. No longer do miles of emptiness, but rather people and trolls alike, surround you. The city is alive in a way that you’ve never known. Even your planet in the game was dead.

You figure that this is close to Dave’s version of Houston and that he’s already familiar with the scene. There was a brief period of time that you spend worrying about him in this new universe, but quickly push those thoughts aside. You categorize them as being too brotherly as well s telling yourself that Dave has experience from Sburb, even more than yourself. He’s nothing if not a survivor.

(The voice of Bro nags at the back of your mind, telling you that Dave doesn’t want to be a survivor anymore. Neither do you for that matter. Maybe you should just approach Dave and jam about your feelings, rather than avoiding him.)

You get up on Wednesday morning and your head buzzes with the memories of the Wednesday routine. You have three classes today – back to back – starting in two hours and then a shift at the restaurant where you work as a waiter. It’s not a job you like, but it helps pay the bills. Dave is currently unemployed, which is good since his current state of mind would make him unemployed rather quickly.

Dave is sitting on the couch when you exit your bedroom, his head in his hands.

“Do you have memories from another life?” he croaks, not looking up. “Not from the game but the one in this universe.”

“Yeah,” you reply coolly.

“They’re giving me a headache,” he replies. “Too much is in my head. It’s all adding up from all that time I spent time traveling as well. I’m glad that I gave it up when I did, otherwise my head would probably explode from all the shit I have to remember.”

“I think it helps if you react to the memories,” you tell him and fill up a glass of water.

You walk over to him and hand him the glass. He looks up at you when he takes it and his eyes are red rimmed like he’s been crying. There are dark bags under them as well meaning he hasn’t been sleeping much.

“I went to class yesterday,” you tell him. “And work on Monday. The memories are kind of supplying me what I need to know to survive.”

He sips the water quietly. It’s not a dismissal but he’s not exactly inviting you to cradle him as he cries – a memory you’re sure he has too.

“Have you had any luck finding anyone?” you inquire.

“I haven’t started,” he admits. “I wanted to look around Houston. This is my Houston with a little troll spice sprinkled on it, but my Houston nonetheless.”

“I figure that was the case.”

He downs the rest of the water and looks at you, staring at you right in the eyes. It’s unnerving that neither of you are wearing your shades. Knowing people can read you is still a scary thought to you. It will probably take some time before the feeling ever goes away.

“You seem well adjusted,” Dave comments.

“I’ve always been good at sorting through all my different selves. I can block them out as I please. Perks of a Heart player,” you explain. “At least all of them are contained to my head and not jumping around as an AI or in my ex boyfriend’s head.”

Dave chuckles at that.

“I’m just a human watch,” he says. “Tick tock mother fuckers.”

You give him a tiny smile.

“I should probably sort out my school schedule,” he says standing. “Don’t want to fall too far behind – even though it’s only my third day in this universe.”

“Good idea,” you tell him.

He gives you a small smile and you can tell that he likes that you approve. Big brother approval is something that Dave craves. You’ll give it to him, if that means he’ll settle into the universe more easily.

* * *

Friday is where shit hits the fan. Thursday you and Dave managed to continue your civility with each other. You made dinner and Dave did dishes – a pattern belonging to this universe. Then you watched a shitty movie in relative silence. There was an unspoken agreement that Sburb discussion was off limits. When you do talk, it is about adjusting to this new life.

You get home on Friday exhausted from three classes, a lab, and a shift at the restaurant. What makes it even worse is knowing that you have a second job at a club, serving drinks and as mediocre, back up DJ, in a couple of hours. Dave is waiting for you when you get home – something you didn’t expect.

It doesn’t match up with the memories you have. There’s a stormy expression on his face and it looks like he’s been crying again. He does that a lot and you’re not really sure how to react. Last night, you heard him from your room. Your Bro voice ordered you to go next door and do something about it, but you resisted. It’s not your place – your relationship isn’t nearly close enough to allow you to just jump into bed next to Dave and cuddle the sad out him. You’re even sure you’re capable of cuddling the sad out of someone.

Dave has a chair pulled out and facing the front door. He was clearly waiting for you. He stares at you blankly as you step into the apartment and set your things off to the side.

“Hey, Dave,” you say attempting to stay casual.

Your mind is running a mile a minute trying to figure out what the fuck is going on. This isn’t normal behaviour. This isn’t a good sign and you’re about thirty seconds from absconding when Dave speaks. His throat is raw, like he’s been screaming. His voice wavers somewhat but his tone is clear and purposeful. He’s been planning what he’s going to say.

“No one else remembers,” he tells you, voice kept deliberately neutral. “I logged onto Pesterchum and found that my handle was still the same. Yours too. So I thought ‘hey, if we kept the same handles – the others must have done that too.’ I messaged as many people as I could remember. The ones that responded think I’m fucking crazy.”

His voice hikes up at the end and Dave’s angry. He’s absolutely livid. You’re not quite sure why he’s directing this anger at you at first. It was in the game’s control that no one remembers – not yours.

“I couldn’t figure it out,” Dave begins again, voice tense as he fights to keep it down. “Why do I remember when no one remembers? It doesn’t make any sense, Time players don’t remember like this. But I realized something – Heart players kind of fuck the system. They exist in a million different fractals, their dream selves awake at the same time their actual selves are. Could it be possible that it somehow translated into remembering in a new universe? I mean Bro always knew that something was up.”

You don’t like where this is going. Dave’s trying to very hard to keep a lid on his anger, but you know it’s going to pop off.

“You’re the reason I remember,” Dave accuses and he sounds more hurt than anything. “For whatever reason, my fucked up relationship to you has caused your aspect to rub off on me. Now I remember all the bullshit from Sburb too. It’s your fault that I can’t just get on with my life because I’m burdened with all the fucked up shit I had to go through.”

“Dave, we’re in the exact same position here,” you reply defensively.

“Are we?” he demands. “Because last time I checked you said that you can sort through all these memories. You can block that bullshit out. I’m not a fucking Heart player. I’m a Time player and I can’t even time travel anymore. Instead I’ve got your cast off abilities and the weight of knowing that all my friends don’t even remember me.”

You look away. He’s got a point.

“It’s not my fault,” you argue. “I don’t have control over this.”

“In every universe you’ve been fucking me over!” Dave snaps, standing to his feet. “You were a horrible guardian, then you were this aloof teen who couldn’t care less about me – I mean Bro may have beat the shit out of me, but at least he cared since he was training me for the fucking game, and now you’re my actual brother who won’t even acknowledge all these memories we have!”

“You’ve been no walk in the park either!” you shout at him.

“I hate you, so fucking much,” Dave hisses with enough venom that it makes you recoil.

He marches towards the door and you leap out of his way. Dave exits the apartment, slamming the door behind him.

You take a shaky breath and run your hand through your hair. First, you take the chair and push it back to the table. Then you try and pretend everything is normal by attempting to make a meal.

You fingers fumble with the package for the instant noodles. You give a yell of frustration and toss the package across the room when you’re unable to open it. The emotions you have been carefully packing up come crashing down. You fumble backwards into the counter. Your knees become weak and you collapse to the ground. Your shoulders heave with soundless sobs. You don’t cry because that’s not a thing you think you’re even capable of.

However, for the first time, Dirk Strider has been completely broken.

* * *

You haven’t seen Dave since Friday. You know he’s been back to the apartment – where else is he going to go – because you’ve heard him moving around through the thin walls.

It’s Monday again, well 2 am Monday morning, and you’ve spent an entire week in this universe. You thought that since you had jumped into the life so quickly, that things would be easier. But that was a big lie. Every day the burden of knowing that you hurt Dave so much, in so many lives, weighs more heavily on your heart. The memory thing isn’t your fault, but you know that you did pretend he didn’t matter as much as he did back in Sburb – that you cared more about your friends than building a relationship with Dave.

The voice of Bro lets you know that he fucked up pretty badly too. Dave has been carrying the emotional scarring of a guardian who trained him for Sburb rather than giving him the love and care that he needed. Now Dave has these memories of you as a caring and loving brother, who pulled him out of a terrible home mixed on top of a militant and emotionally distant Bro. That you can take the blame for.

Dave is showing no indications of talking to you again. Maybe you won’t be able to fix this after all.

So after a week of the game ended – you don’t think this arrangement is going to work. You’re making plans to move out. Dave will hate you even more that way but perhaps it’s for the best. Perhaps it’s best for both of you to just move on from each other – it has never really worked in any universe. So why this one?

Something changes when you hear Dave’s quiet sobs from the other room. There are no voices urging you to go, no instincts screaming to you that you’re needed. But you get up anyway and cross the hallway into Dave’s room. You knock before entering, but don’t really wait for a response. Dave would reject your presence regardless of your intention.

He’s sitting up in bed, arms wrapped around his knees. He looks up at you, eyes bleary. You think that he just woke up – probably a nightmare. You’re aware of some of the shit he went through in the game and acknowledge it’s enough to give anyone nightmares. Quietly, you cross the room and sit on the bed beside him. You’re not really sure what to do but Dave’s body relaxes somewhat so you must be doing something right.

“I’m sorry,” Dave mumbles quietly and he turns to look at you, cheek pressed against his blanket-covered knee. “I shouldn’t have blown up at you like that. It’s not your fault and it’s as much out of your control as it is mine. I’m just –“

“You don’t have to explain it me,” you tell him and you press a hand to his back. “I know.”

“You’re feeling the same way, even though you can block some of it out,” Dave whispers.

You nod.

“I don’t want you to leave,” he confesses quietly. “I know you’ve been thinking about it. I don’t think I can handle being alone.”

“I’m not going to leave, Dave,” you promise him. “We’re not going to be alone in this mess.”

“I’m not going to leave you either, Dirk,” Dave says.

“Good,” you reply simply. “Now move over, I’d like to get some sleep before I get up tomorrow. We’ll figure everything out another day. I mean if I rubbed off on you, maybe I could do it again?”

Dave obligingly moves over, pressing himself against the wall. You lie down and wait for Dave to do the same. He takes a few more minutes, staring blankly at the wall. There is no pressure though. You close your eyes and try to get some shuteye instead. Dave’s breathing, still settling from whatever woke him up, lulls you to sleep.

However, you’re rudely awakened by Dave’s phone vibrating noisily on the table beside you. Dave scrambles to reach over and you try to remember if Dave has any friends in this universe. You draw a blank. Opening an eye and peeking over you see Dave staring at his phone with wide eyes. The grey text is appearing at a rapid pace in front of him. There is soon a wall of completely capslocked grey text on Dave’s phone.

“Respond dumbass,” you mutter, letting your eyes flutter shut. “Tell your friend that you’ll come out to play tomorrow.”

“Dirk – he remembers,” Dave says, his voice cracking.

“Tell him you’ll talk to him tomorrow about it,” you reply calmly but your heart starts to beat fast.

Someone else remembers. You are not completely alone in this universe. Maybe there’s hope for finding the others after all. Dave doesn’t reply, tapping a response into his phone. There’s relief and excitement radiating from him. You roll over on your side and decide that you’ll allow Dave this. Maybe it’s never too late to start being a brother.

**Author's Note:**

> I edit myself and as a result I familiarize myself with the work and often skip over errors. If you find any please let me know!
> 
> I'm on tumblr as isaaclehigh (where my fics are crossposted) & nathanielhowwe (my main blog). feel free to come yell in my inbox about stuff :)


End file.
